


Clubbing

by fairiel



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Anger, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:11:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairiel/pseuds/fairiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader takes Bucky dancing. He gets angry because of her dress. (sorry, I suck at summaries) Post Winter Soldier Bucky, maybe a little out of character, I don't know. Who cares when there's good smut?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clubbing

“Wow, the music is loud!” Bucky exclaims as you enter the nightclub.

You smile at him, your feet already tapping to the beat, your body ready to dance. You take his hand and head for the bar. 

“Refreshments first” you say, winking at him.

As you both sip your drinks, you can see he’s a little uneasy. He doesn’t really like crowded places and he’s scanning the place for potential dangers, his eyes intent, a frown crinkling his brow.

“Relax, Buck!” you say, elbowing him. “You can let your guard down.”

His eyes leave the crowd and meet yours.

“The only time I let my guard down is when we - well - you know” he replies,looking at his feet, embarrassed.

It amuses you that he cannot bring himself to say the words so you finish the sentence for him, barely repressing the chuckle that comes to your lips.

“When we have sex. You know, it’s not so hard to say.”

You swear you can see his cheeks turn slightly pink and you lean towards him, biting your lips.

“Maybe we can do just that later” you murmur in his ear.

“If the purpose of this night was to do that, then there was no need to go out” he says, utterly serious, grabbing your waist, but you snake away from his arms with a laugh, seizing his hands. 

“Come on!” you say, driving him in the middle of the dancing crowd. “It’s fun! You’ll see.”

You close your eyes, letting the music get to your head, a bit drunk now. Loud music will always do that to you. The beat is irrepressible, impossible to deny. You start to move your hips in rhythm, oblivious of everything, even of Bucky, unaware of the way he looks at you as you shake your head, your hair swishing wildly in the air.

After several songs, you’re out of breath and a little sweaty already. The crowd is a little dense and you can feel bodies pressed all around you. Not sure which one is Bucky’s, you push a few strands of hair away from your eyes and look around. He’s standing, stick stiff, right next to you. Not uneasy, but wide awake and ready to pounce on any threat. The people around him poke and push him but he doesn’t budge. And frankly, you have to say he looks more than annoyed.

You repress the sarcastic remark that came to your mind as his cold eyes shoot right at the guy behind you. That stare means trouble but before you can act, Bucky pushes you away and grabs the guy, his metal fingers almost crushing the bones of his arm.

“Are you mad?” the guy asks in an attempt to shove off Bucky.

“Bucky, don’t!” you implore at the same time.

Hand on his hand, you slowly manage to loosen his grip and he finally releases the guy. Only to glare at you, a scowl distorting his finely chiseled face. If looks could kill, you’d be dead already. He hustles past you, getting rid of your hand, heading for the exit.

“Wait!” you shout, darting after him.

He doesn’t and you follow him out of the crowd. He growls as he finds out he’s standing right in front of the ladies’ bathroom instead of the exit.

“Buck!” you blurt out, already aware you’re making a mistake but unable to shut your mouth. “It was supposed to be fun. Why do you have to ruin everything?”

He turns slowly, facing you. You misjudged his anger, apparently. He scans you from head to toe, glowering.

“Put your dress back in order” he finally says. “We’re going back home.”

“ _You_ go back home. I’m not going anywhere! Besides, what does my dress have to do with anything?” you ask angrily, hating that he implies you are the one responsible for all the fuss.

“For god’s sake” he replies “it almost shows your butt! What is your goddamn problem?”

Your eyes flash at him and you make no effort to lower your dress. 

“I can dress the way I want. It is you who have a problem, Mr Barnes.”

“Oh really?” he says, leaning on you, his face so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

Goosebumps rise all over you. Is it fright? Or is it something else? You shiver as he grabs your arms and tugs you after him in the ladies’ bathroom.

“What are you doing?” you ask. “I thought you wanted to go back home.”

Whatever his intent is, you know you’re no match for him. It’s the first time he gets angry at you and oddly enough, the only thing you can think about is how hot he looks when he scowls.

“I don’t want to make further scandal” he replies, checking all the booths to make sure you’re all alone.

“If you think I’m going to apologize, think again.”

“I have all my time” he says, shrugging at you.

The front door knob makes a weird popping sound as he crushes it between his metal fingers, ensuring your privacy. He leans against the door, arms folded, eyes blackened with anger. You feel his glare on you. But you’re not about to crack up. Good luck with that! 

“Fine!” you say. “Now that you’ve broken the door, what are you going to do? Beat me so I give up?”

He heaves a breath through his nostrils in contempt.

“Think whatever you want. Like I said, I have all my time.”

That’s it. You see red. You hate being trapped somewhere, but you’re not about to beg.

“Really? What is this about? What do you hope to gain?”

Maybe you can talk your way out of it. But your questions only manage to rekindle his anger.

“What were you thinking? Dancing suggestively with all those men? Acting like a - ”

Again, he can’t bring himself to say the word, and again you finish his sentence, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“A whore? A slut? Is that it? Is that what you think I am?”

You walk to him as you talk, defiant, a sudden urge to punch his face seizing you. Your eyes silently challenge him but his jaw is set, his fists are clenched. There is no way he’s giving up.

“You’re such a jerk!” you finally say, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s do this. We can stay here all night, for all I care, but no way I’m apologizing for having fun.”

“You want to do it like that?” he says. “Fine! Have it your way. I don’t care!”

He pushes you away, glaring into your face. You glare back at him, thinking how unbelievable he is, when his mouth crushes yours and before you know it, his tongue breaks through your teeth and he’s kissing you forcefully, both his hands cupping your face. You flail at first, utterly taken aback, but the fire he is raising inside you is too strong to resist and you find yourself kissing him back, biting his lips as you tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

His hands leave your face and roam all over your back to the curves of your butt, until they find the hem of your dress, lifting it up. His mouth is in your neck, sucking at your skin, branding you in several places. You gasp as he parts your thighs, pulling your soaked panties aside, pushing his fingers inside of you. You can’t believe how ready you are for him. You’re so wet his fingers slide in and out effortlessly and he groans against your skin as you lift one leg around him, giving him free access to do whatever he will.

“Bucky” you sigh, begging.

He removes his fingers and in the blink of an eye, he bends you over the sink, his hand on your neck. You try to take a breath as he plunges into you, fingers grabbing your hair, groaning deep, but your breath turns into a long cry. You have never experienced such an uncomfortable position. Your face almost hits the tap before his hand tugs at your hair. All you can do is pant short sharp intakes of breath as his hips smash you repeatedly on the hard surface of the sink. 

You faintly realize there will be bruises but all you care about at the moment is his cock deep inside of you, hitting your spot with deadly precision each time he rams into you. You stare at his reflection in the mirror. He’s biting his lips as his eyes meet yours. His fingers trace the whole length of your spine before settling on your hip, lifting your butt up so he can pound you deeper. You moan and he can see his own pleasure reflected in your eyes. Weirdly, you remember how accurate a marksman he is as you reach your orgasm, shivers running through your body, your hands clenching on the edge of the sink. You arch your back against him in your release, your walls tightening against his cock, and a second wave swipes you as he reaches deeper than he ever did before. You hear him grunt, his fingers pulling hard at your hair and he pulls out just as his cum shoots on your butt, hot and sticky.

He catches his breath, finally releasing your hair. You fall limp on the sink, out of breath and he wipes your butt gently with a towel. You turn around and he sits you on the sink. You wrap your legs and arms around him, resting your forehead on his, feeling the beat of his heart against yours as it returns to normal at an incredible fast pace. You smile at him and he smiles back, a lazy happy smile that lightens his face. 

“Still think my dress is too short?” you ask.

“Actually yes” he replies. “You really shouldn’t wear it in public, unless you want me to jump you.”

“Jerk” you say, kissing his nose. “You can jump me any time.”

 


End file.
